


Dreamers by Alphys

by Manaya_Karyam



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5217974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manaya_Karyam/pseuds/Manaya_Karyam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long time ago, two monsters shared the last name "Dreemurr"... so much has come between them since then, but could it be that the holes in their hearts will still fit only each other?<br/>[[This is the fic that Alphys writes, about Toriel and Asgore getting back together.]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Without You

* So, one of my friends really wanted me to write this fic I was thinking of...  
* It's about real people, but I won't make it weird or anything.  
* Like, I won't snoop around in their personal lives. If I need any details I'll just make them up!  
* Also they'll never ever see this.  
* So here we go! If you like, please give kudos or reviews! Or even review if you don't like it I guess! Whatever you want! Anyway!

~~~

In general, Toriel had no need to think of the past. Through some amazing trick of determination, everything she cared about was with her right now. In fact, she had more than she had ever thought to ask for. She had a teaching position at an elementary school. She had an apartment on the surface, of all places, which she shared with her dear friends. She had someone she could almost bring herself to think of as her child. And she had someone who made her laugh in a new way every day and who touched her heart in a way no one else did.  
She would have liked to tell herself that the further back you looked, the worse things would get.  
It's just too bad it couldn't be that simple.  
"Y'okay, Mom?" came Frisk's voice, interrupting her internal narration.  
Toriel realized she had been staring at something, without moving, for quite a while. The sounds of recess around them came back into focus.  
"Oh... yes, my child. I was only thinking of something."  
Frisk was silent for a moment, looking down at the object of her attention.  
"Bad memories, right?"  
"I am sorry to make you worry..." said Toriel, but Frisk was already giving her a hug. Despite how much power she knew they contained, they were only as tall as her torso and their arms didn't reach all the way around.  
"Just remember that it's over," said Frisk. "We're all safe now. Everybody."  
That was the thing about Frisk. Somehow, they knew exactly what to say to people.  
"It does feel strange that you should be the one comforting me, and not the opposite," Toriel sighed.  
With a slight smile, Frisk broke away.  
"Anyway, you are right, my child. It is silly of me to get caught up in such things."  
Feeling a small moment of aggression, Toriel kicked dirt over the golden flower that had caught her attention in the schoolyard. She would pay no more attention to that symbol of the past, which should have held nothing but bad memories.

Asgore missed his family.  
He didn't want to be a downer or anything. He knew that a king should be someone who makes you feel safe at all times. He owed that to his people, and most of all his friends.  
But it wouldn't be fair to assume a friendly smile had no sadness behind it.  
Asgore missed his son, and his other son. But missing his wife was the hardest, because he saw her all the time.  
Still, he knew that he would just have to move on, and that meant bonding with the new friends that had come his way. Which in turn often meant swallowing his pride.  
"Alright, darlings!" Mettaton sang, twisting his head 180 degrees to look at the group. "Everyone ready? Undyne, press A, please!"  
On the television, the song began. The game was a modded mashup of "Guitar Hero" and "Just Dance", allowing Mettaton to pose while the others stuck to instruments.  
Napstablook tapped the drum pads. Undyne attacked her guitar strings. Dr. Alphys watched from the couch.  
"WE'RE NO STRANGERS TO LOVE," Asgore thundered gamely. "YOU KNOW THE RULES. AND SO. DO I." The pitch indicator was wavering strangely in the top of the screen. Oh dear, was that a bad thing? "A FULL COMMITMENT'S WHAT I'M THINKING OF..."  
The song was ironically poignant for him. A long time ago, he had been thinking of a full commitment...  
He expected the band to do uniformly badly, but they were pulled to the end by an almost perfect score by Napstablook.  
"Oh... yeah, I used to play drums for real... kinda..." the ghost murmured.  
Mettaton pouted. "How is a professional performer meant to match his moves to the rigid shapes displayed on the screen? It kills all personal style! A terrible game concept!"  
Asgore caught the sound of Alphys giggling at them.  
"Would you like a turn?" he offered generously.  
"U-um... no thanks..." Alphys blushed, hugging a couch pillow as if it was a shield.  
Asgore turned away. The Doctor was very smart and all, but sometimes her lack of courage made it hard to respect her.  
"So... like... another song?" Napstablook all but whispered.  
"Um, would anyone like to trade instruments?" Asgore asked, embarrassed.  
"I wanna drum!" said Undyne.  
"If you promise not to break them," said Alphys.  
"Never mind!" said Undyne.  
"I guess... you can drum, Your Majesty..." said Napstablook.  
"Blooky, pose for me," said Mettaton, walking out in a huff.  
Napstablook floated forward, and Asgore took their seat at the drums. Now, the whole group faced away from him, looking forward, as he was left to maintain the rhythm that made all things possible.  
Asgore chuckled at himself. "You look too hard for symbolism, you old goat..."  
Even so. He hoped someone would turn toward him, one day.

The door clicked open.  
"I'm hoooome!" called Frisk, stomping into the living room, Toriel close behind.  
"Welcome home!" replied Asgore, who was fast giving up on manipulating a guitar with his huge paws.  
"Have you all been playing that game the entire day?" asked Toriel with a little reproach.  
"Technically I haven't," Alphys said from the couch, trying not to smirk.  
"I think we're entitled to party for a while, being on the surface and all," Undyne said from the dance mat, smirking.  
"But you're not outside!" Toriel protested. "You're playing video games! You can do that underground!"  
"It's the spirit of the thing."  
The debate was cut off by a ringing bell and a tall skeleton, who glided into the room carrying a silver platter.  
"Dinner is ready!" bellowed Papyrus. "A truly unique creation!"  
"It really is," said Sans, appearing behind him in the doorway.  
The band finished out the current song, and then filed into the kitchen after everyone else.  
Asgore found Toriel waiting outside, letting everyone through before her.  
Asgore anticipated the awkward tension, and steered straight into it, unable to help himself. He lingered outside instead of brushing straight past her.  
He had nothing to say, though.  
"Really," said Toriel, after a moment. "Do you not have royal duties to attend to, apart from fanciful games?"  
"It's amazing how well monsters can govern themselves," Asgore said. "I mean, if I have time to trim a hedge, I have time to spend with friends, right?" He hazarded a smile at Toriel, but she was no longer looking at him. Sighing, he continued into the kitchen.  
They both took their seats at the long, long dinner table. Papyrus removed the platter's lid with a flourish. Underneath it was a large smoked salmon.  
Everyone stared.  
"I-it's not spaghetti," Toriel said finally.  
"Of course not!" said Papyrus.  
"We've been eating spaghetti for weeks," Sans explained. "I made him cook something different."  
Mettaton's face appeared to be frozen in a shocked setting. Frisk was tearing up slightly and offering a silent prayer of thanks.  
"This is *good*," Undyne said in surprise, talking around her first bite.  
"Sure. My bro's cooking has gotten really e-FISH-ent."  
Toriel laughed out loud. Asgore took a bullet to the heart.

  
~~~  
  
* Anyway, I hope you like it so far! Please kudo and review. I guess I said that at the top. But whatever, this is a reminder I guess! Okay, next chapter soon! Bye!


	2. With You???

* Oh, I forgot to say last time! If you like the story, you should also subscribe! Because this is an ongoing story! Being written, right as we speak!

~~~

Often, Toriel was disoriented by human culture. A lot of things seemed to move too fast for her.   
Although, to be honest, she had been alone in the ruins for many years. She would probably have   
been disoriented by monster culture, too.  
But once in a while, she found something that felt just her speed. Knitting was one such thing. Fire-related street performances were another.  
The idea of a festival... seemed daunting at first. She'd gotten an impression that the humans had wild, raucus parties with earsplitting music and excessive vomiting. But Sans assured her this event would be altogether more laid-back.  
"They said something about fireworks," he told her. "Something about pretty lanterns. Something about wandering the fairgrounds in twilight with a special person, wearing a traditional sort of robe, and buying kitschy souvenirs from vendors' booths."  
"A human 'festival' means going to a flea market?" scoffed Mettaton.  
"That's just the impression I'm getting," said Sans, turning back to his source of information: a royal scientist and royal guard, both talking frantically and stepping all over each other's words.  
"- and basically you can take someone as friends -"  
"- but it can also be like a date -"  
"- and that's where romance always happens!"  
The two glanced at each other. Then Alphys blushed and looked away. Undyne may or may not have had a similar reaction. We may never know.  
"You also buy food," Undyne clarified. "Like these little balls of stuff, stabbed on spears."  
"Humans are so violent..." Toriel murmured.  
"Now, now," Mettaton chastised.  
"It's true though," said Frisk, passing through on their way to the kitchen.  
"...But if it is all that you say it is, this could be a very nice experience," Toriel mused, shooting a smile toward Sans.  
"It could be positively FEST-ive," he grinned. "No... wait. That's not a pun. That's just the word's actual etymology."  
Toriel gave him a chuckle anyway.

The concept of the festival sent a cold chill down Asgore's spine.  
"But, it's not *entirely* a couples thing, is it?" he asked to clarify.  
Undyne and Alphys burst out in a cacophony of fangirling once more.  
"Wait... wait... hold on," said Asgore. "Could you just show me the history, uh, books that you found this in?"  
30 minutes later, his fears had been confirmed. It was horribly petulant, he knew, but he suddenly felt like the child in grade school who will be picked last to play baseball, or the wallflower at a teenage dance. Which was ironic, because that had never been his actual school experience. Back then, his looks could always get him by.  
It would be easy, he knew, to ask anyone here to go to the festival with him, as friends. He hadn't been king for decades without picking up some social skills. Yet at the same time, it would be the hardest thing in the world, because he knew there was someone else with whom he should have been going.  
He needed to take his mind off of it.  
It was Saturday, which meant Frisk didn't have school, so Asgore sought them out. He and Frisk spent most of their time together in silence; it was nice. Sometimes they engaged in a creative pursuit together, and sometimes they just read in the same room. This is a form of interaction that some extroverts don't believe in, but which is nevertheless real.  
Frisk had a way of communicating volumes without speech. Asgore tried to reciprocate with complex eyebrow movements, but usually it just came off as humorous.  
"Frisk, would you like to work on the garden?"  
Their interactions weren't *completely* silent. The invitation, traditionally, was done out loud.  
Frisk put on tough gloves for the "yard" work, while Asgore just stuck with his furry, calloused paws.  
They weren't growing any golden flowers in the apartment's window box. Privately, everyone thought they were a bad memory for someone else, and so everyone felt better without them. Instead they were growing dracaena and iresine and white licorice and summer snapdragon and - whoops, out of room. It was a small window.  
The pruning shears, despite being too small, calmed Asgore's nerves. As did the human's silent work beside him. (Surrounded by humans, and yet, this human would always be "the" human...)  
But before long, faint voices drifted in from another room. They rubbed at his concentration. They sounded almost like...  
Oh, right.  
It was Saturday, which meant Toriel didn't have school.  
"Knock knock," said one voice.  
"Who is there?" said the other voice. (He noted her ever-endearing refusal to use contractions.)  
"Temmie."  
"Temmie who?"  
"Temmie yah deepest secrets, dahling." (A fakey accent from who-knew-where.)  
(Toriel howling with laughter.)  
(Asgore's fingers clenching around a poor dracaena's spikes.)  
"Anyway, Tori, that festival thing sounds pretty cool, right?"  
"I would like to give it a try. But... do you suppose it's safe for Frisk to be out alone after dark?"  
There was another pause. Then they both burst out laughing.  
"Do you suppose it's safe for the other humans, if Frisk is out alone after dark?" Sans joked.  
"I don't know, Frisk may accidentally make a hundred friends and they would all have to live here -"  
Asgore straightened up abruptly.  
"I'm sorry, Frisk. I have to go."  
He left the room and walked through the house, trying to neither storm nor stomp. In the living room he found someone working out on the pull-up bar.  
Before he could think about it, he was saying "Undyne, do you want to go to the festival with me, as friends?"

The more Toriel thought about it, the more exciting it seemed. She and Sans weren't calling their relationship "dating" yet, but this should be one step closer. Having done romance once before, Toriel knew there was a very specific way that you feel when your hearts are connected, and maybe at this festival she and Sans would achieve that.  
When Toriel was young, it was customary to only date monsters who looked like you. Now, she couldn't be happier that times were changing. Maybe if monsters had been more progressive in the old days, she would never have...  
...  
Toriel loathed to admit that there had been good times with Asgore. But in truth, those times were still her number-one guide to what 'love' really was. That was the feeling she was waiting for with Sans.  
When you put it that way, it sounded absurd that she should be pursuing someone else, when her original true love was right here waiting for her. But she *wouldn't* put it that way. She refused. It couldn't be true that the only true love in her life had to come with such disappointment; his strength undercut by cowardice, his leadership betrayed by short-sightedness, and his willingness to hear criticism totally defeated by his inability to act on it. She didn't mean to hold out for perfection. But after Asgore's faults had become so glaringly relevant to the great events that shaped their lives, like tectonic plates shifting the continents, she would never again feel purely good toward him. She could never look at him without seeing mistakes.  
But as long as she kept him at arm's length, and didn't fall into the familiar rhythm of their old banter, those mistakes were a literal world away. In this jungle of urban development and glowing tv billboards, those mistakes hardly seemed real. She could focus on nicer things, like she had all those years by herself in the ruins.  
For instance, she was going to a party. A festival, with a group of her friends. And she intended to have a good time.

That Sunday evening, the group traversed the streets together. They definitely attracted stares, some more than others. Toriel knew she was fairly popular with humanity because she was furry and radiated protectiveness; but some of the others weren't so well-recieved. Undyne, for instance, didn't help her image by leering about with fangs bared. Meanwhile, Mettaton was back in his wheeled block mode since he didn't have power to waste, and Papyrus had dressed up for the occasion, replacing his shoulder pads with soccer balls.  
Toriel mused over who would walk the fairgrounds with who. She expected to go with Sans, of course. Papyrus, then? He might go with Frisk. As friends, of course, because Frisk was far too young to flirt with anyone. The cousins, Napstablook and Mettaton, were currently walking together. And out of the remaining three? It was hard to know. She couldn't think of any pairing among them that had been previously hinted at in any way.  
As they reached the blocked-off streets where the festival began, Toriel caught wind of a discussion at the other end of the group.  
"So, Alphys is also going to come with us, if that's cool?" Undyne was saying to Asgore. Toriel watched the king's eyes take in the situation: Undyne and Alphys just a little closer to each other than was traditional, blushing slightly with a certain nervous excitement.  
Well! Romance was certainly in the air this night. Although maybe Undyne was just trying to be nice...  
"Ah!" Asgore said, coming to the same conclusion as she had. "Oh, certainly she may - in fact, you two go alone for now, if it's alright. I... have another plan."  
"A-alright!" said Undyne. "If you're sure!"  
Asgore moved away from the pair, looking proud of himself.  
"Alphys!" said Mettaton, scooting over. "I'm with your group too, yes?"  
"Um..." said Alphys.  
"I need you to operate my battery. Remember? So I can stay my most fabulous self the whole night!" Mettaton presented his back-switch to Frisk, who obligingly flipped it. One elaborate transformation later, Mettaton EX stood reflecting a hundred different lantern colors.  
Undyne rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Does he have to do the 'Oh Yes' every time?"  
"Uh, sorry," Alphys said to Undyne, sweating, "but, I remember now... I actually did promise..."  
"Don't sweat it," said Undyne. Then she leaned down and whispered "we'll sneak off later," which made Alphys blush hard. (Toriel followed that last part because she could read lips.)  
Undyne, Alphys, and Mettaton set off into the crowd before Napstablook could make themself heard. "Oh..." they said," I kinda thought..." They got quieter. "That I would go with Mettaton... but... this makes more sense..."  
"Napstablook, can I go with you?" Frisk said immediately. "You're free, right? Let's be festival buddies."  
"Frisk!" cried Papyrus. "I wanted to go with you!"  
"Sorry, bro! I'm taken!" Frisk cried back.  
"Oh..." said Napstablook, with a tiny smile. "Golly..."  
"Sans!" Papyrus swiveled around. "I'm alone! You have to help me!"  
Sans gulped. "Okay?"  
Toriel said, "I thought -" Even as she realized that they had never officially promised to go together.  
"Ah, I thought so too, Tori!" Sans said hurriedly. "I'm really sorry, but!" Apologetically, he pointed at Papyrus over his shoulder. "Um... we can have our night another night, okay? Even if it's not tonight, I promise I'm looking forward to it."  
Papyrus bounded away into the crowd, with Sans in tow.  
Toriel, suddenly alone, looked around her.  
...And saw exactly one member of the group remaining.  
Asgore gave her an apologetic little smile. "Would you mind, terribly?" he asked.  
Toriel sighed. She considered the other option for a moment, but...  
"No, I would not. I'm no petulant school child, and this cultural tradition is meant to be enjoyed in pairs."  
*Oh well,* thought Toriel as she walked beside him. *It's only a festival.*  
And they entered the crowd together.

~~~

* Next time: Toriel and Asgore at the festival!  
* Huh? You want to know about me and Undyne at the festival??  
* ...Mind your own dang business! (#^ω^#)


End file.
